


Recovering

by anneapocalypse



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Gap Filler, Hospitals, Reunions, Season/Series 16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anneapocalypse/pseuds/anneapocalypse
Summary: Carolina wakes up in the hospital, back on Chorus.Set early in season 16





	Recovering

**Author's Note:**

> It's always bothered me that Carolina didn't seem to suffer a lot of symptoms from the armor lock and we didn't see her undergoing any kind of medical care or recovery. I wrote How We Know It's Home before season 16, on the assumption that Carolina might, you know, get medical attention on Earth before heading back to Chorus. After we found out that in canon she didn't, I wrote this as an alternative. It's not really continuous with the rest of that series, so I'm posting it as a standalone instead.
> 
> Written for Femslash February.
> 
> Many thanks to [asleepythief](http://asleepythief.tumblr.com) for beta reading!

Carolina wakes, blinking, under white lights and a blue blur she can’t quite bring into focus. It’s all fog and glare, and a sharp stab in her temples and at the base of her skull that slowly begins to dissipate as her vision clears.

She flexes her hands, moves her arms, and feels it then—a needle taped into the crease of her left elbow. The outline of a clear IV bag hanging on a stand.

And then a hand in hers. Warm and trigger-calloused, and familiar even before it comes into focus.

"Hey," Vanessa says softly. The blue is a suit, two buttons undone at the collar of a white button-down and the hem of the jacket creased from sitting. "I came as soon as I heard."

Carolina blinks hard a couple of times. Tries not to stare into the lights. “I’m—”

“Chorus,” Vanessa says, completing the thought she hadn’t quite mustered all the words for. “You’re on Chorus. Nova Armonia. General Donald D. Doyle General Hospital.”

“Who,” Carolina says hoarsely, “the _fuck_ came up with that name?”

Vanessa laughs, a sound so warm and one Carolina hasn’t heard in _far_ too long. “It is a bit wordy.”

Carolina manages a smile. “It’s what he would’ve wanted.” The rest of the room is sort of creeping into her awareness—a table here, a television monitor there. While she’s thinking about mustering the will to sit up, she nods at the IV stand. “What’s all this?”

Vanessa’s expression sobers. “You collapsed on the transport. You were severely dehydrated—they had to give you fluids before they could put you in cryo. Airdropped you straight to the hospital as soon as the ship docked.”

It all slams back into her in an instant. The underwater base, Temple, the armor lock—

 _“Wash,”_ Carolina chokes out, bolt upright in a second, even as her head swims and the room tilts and unravels before her, and she’s falling, the bed and the floor dropping out from under her, but Vanessa’s hand is in hers, warm and firm and Carolina squeezes her eyes and grips back, clinging to the only solid thing.

“He’s all right,” Vanessa says, and Carolina releases a harsh, ragged breath and the room starts to right itself. Slowly. One piece at a time. “He’s all right, Carolina, he’s out of surgery. He’s alive.”

 _Alive and recovering._ That seems… familiar, actually, now that she thinks about it. Like she’s been told that already, by someone else, somewhere else. It’s all… kind of fuzzy, after the armor lock. “I remember… fighting.” Which, for Carolina, is such an absurdly vague statement she half-expects Vanessa to laugh.

She doesn’t. Her expression darkens, slightly. “From the sound of things, you should’ve gotten medical attention before you embarked. Jensen said you seemed fine one minute, and then…”

 _Collapsed on the transport._ She thinks she remembers boarding a pelican, with the Lieutenants. _Hitching a ride._ Guess she figured if she made it that far, she could make the trip. She was used to that, right? Just a little longer, a little further. Lock it down and keep moving.

Now, she feels approximately like she got hit by a bus. And she knows what that feels like.

“Yeah,” Carolina says. “That sounds like me.”

The Reds and Blues… stayed behind, for some reason. Pizza. Pizza was the reason.

_A deep dish and some garlic knots._

As if on cue, Carolina’s stomach growls.

“I bet you’re starving,” Vanessa says.

You have no idea, Carolina thinks, and then realizes she probably doesn’t. None of the LTs knew the whole story, and—

Well, apparently she didn’t last long in the air.

“Yeah,” Carolina says, suddenly acutely aware of the hollow feeling in her belly. “I could eat.”

Vanessa presses the call button. “They can bring you just about anything you want.”

Carolina raises an eyebrow. Even after eleven months away, even in her current state of brain fog, that doesn’t sound right. “Anything, huh?”

Vanessa half-smiles at that. “Trade agreements. Part of the new treaty. My feelings on it are… mixed, to put it mildly, but there’s no question it has been beneficial to be able to get offworld goods.”

Carolina shakes her head, processing that. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

Vanessa smiles, a full smile this time, and squeezes her hand. “I guess we do.”


End file.
